Screaming Glee: A Glee Scream Crossover Fanfiction
by CreativePsycho
Summary: A serial killer dressed in the costume of the killer in the never-ending Stab movies is targeting members of McKinley High's glee club. Rated M for violence, language, and brief sexuality. Please review! I would love some feedback!
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

Rachel's hand shot into the air, "Mr. Schue, I think I have a perfect song that is guaranteed to win us any competition this year. Brad, could you play _A Piece of Sky _in E Minor?"

"I'm sorry Rachel," Mr. Schue interrupted, "Brad made me sign a contract that he wouldn't have to play another Barbra Streisand song."

"Why?" Rachel pleaded, "Barbra is like my power animal!"

Brad just looked at her.

"Ok, well then, how about _Send in the Clowns_?"

"Hasn't Barbra sung that one before?" asked Mr. Schue. Brad nodded.

"But she wasn't the first," Rachel protested.

"If I may," Kurt interrupted, "It would seem that our judges are usually hip, or at least they pretend to be. So, I suggest we find a pretentiously hip song to perform at the competitions. That may connect with our judges a little better. I was thinking maybe I could sing _Cinema Italiano_ from the movie-adaptation of the musical _Nine_. It's honestly the most pretentiously hip song I have ever heard."

Brad nodded.

"Take it away boys!" Kurt shouted as the band burst into symphonic perfection.

As Kurt finished his number the classroom became a cacophony of praise.

"Wow, Kurt, that was really good," Mr. Schue smiled, "All right, settle down, everyone," he continued, "We have a few things to go over real quick. This year's competition is going to be a little different. The show-choir committee has ruled out original songs due to the fact that they found them too annoying. Also, there is now a state competition held right between Sectionals and Regionals, meaning that Sectionals are a month earlier than usual, giving us less time to prepare."

"Hold up," shouted Finn, "They found my song annoying?"

"Now, they didn't say anything specific," started Mr. Schue.

"Do they realize how difficult it is to write a song in complete _staccato_? I didn't even know what that word meant until Rachel explained it to me," Finn finished.

"I, personally found the song annoying," Lauren jumped in, "and that kiss was gross."

"How would you know," Finn argued, "your back was facing us the whole time!"

"I could hear it, man-boobs, it was gross."

"Yeah, it did kind of sound like you two were in no control of your saliva," Santana stated, "I swear I could hear dribble going everywhere."

"That's enough!" Mr. Schue shouted, "We don't have time to discuss Finn and Rachel's out-of-place kissing, we have to start working _now _for sectionals. Your assignment this week is to find a song that is hip, fun, and not sung by Barbra Streisand to perform in front of the club next Tuesday."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe Mr. Schue would do this to me!" Rachel threw her teddy-bear across her bedroom.<p>

"I don't even really know what he did," Finn deadpanned.

"Finn, this is our _senior _year. The last chance I'll ever have at winning any glee club competition and Mr. Schuester had to take it away."

"What do you mean, 'he took it away'?" Finn could feel his impatience starting to show.

"He took away Barbra from me. Now everything I sing will simply sound... Not Barbra."

"Hey," Finn put on his seductive face, "How long did you say your dads will be out?"

"All night—they're at a Liza Minelli sing-along marathon. By now they're probably half-way through _New York, New York_."

"I think I may know what will make you feel better." Finn started massaging her shoulders.

"Finn," Rachel hesitated, "what did you have for lunch today?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" He continued the back-rub.

"Well, the last time we got intimate like this, you were under the impression that a grilled-cheese sandwich was the reason why. I just want you to know, if anything happens here, it's only because you and I made a choice."

"What do you mean 'anything'?" Excitement was tingling through Finn's head.

"Finn, stop," Rachel pushed his hands away, "I don't think this is right. I know from Quinn that if you don't draw a line somewhere, things go too far."

"I wasn't planning on anything serious, I just wanted to touch your boobs," Finn argued.

"Well, my boobs are through being fiddled with, besides, it's late and I need to start memorizing Bernadette Peters' entire repertoire. Perhaps it really is time Barbra and I parted ways."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

"Well, I will say one thing Puckerman, it _is _a lovely view," Lauren congratulated as she leaned in closer to Puck. They looked out on the little city lights of downtown Lima shimmering in the darkness—looking like fireflies from their perch at Lima's notorious make-out spot.

"I told you I knew a good spot," Puck bragged. Lauren glanced over at the two cars surrounding them, occupied by horny teenagers, no doubt. However, the windows were too foggy to really tell.

"Well, let's just stick with 'the view's pretty' for right now. A good spot might include some privacy," Lauren stated.

"Hey, I said I knew a spot, here it is."

"It's a fine spot, Puckerman."

"Well, then let's cut the chatting and start macking."

"I think that's the most romantic thing you have ever said to me," Lauren leaned in to Puck and instantly it was as if they were born conjoined at the lips. Lauren could feel Puck's breathing begin to quicken—this may be the hottest action she'll ever get. Lauren began to feel Puck's body. Puck returned the groping. It started to get very warm and moist in the car. Both their breaths were quick and shallow. Maybe they would finally go all the way. Endless possibilities raced through Lauren's head when –

"Puckerman, did you hear that?" Lauren pulled away, wiping her lips off as she spoke.

"Hear what?" Puck responded, clearly irritated.

Lauren looked over to the two cars surrounding them. The windows were no longer foggy. She could just barely make out the faces of some teenagers she had seen around school. They were just sitting there.

"Hold on, something isn't right," Lauren said as she opened the car door.

"Hey," Puck began, but Lauren quickly shushed him.

"Just wait right here, I'm just going to ask those other kids if they heard anything."

Lauren shut the door behind her and walked over to the car next to them.

"Hey, did you guys hear anything?" She asked as she reached the car. Then she saw it, blood was spattered like rain drops all over the inside of the windshield. The kids had their throats slashed. Lauren backed away and began to dry-heave. Who could have done this? She fell to the ground, dizzy, her stomach felt as if it were going to burst through her skin. A cold sweat began to surface when she remembered Puck.

"Puckerman!" Lauren hopped to her feet and ran as fast as she could. She reached the car to find it vacant. Puck was missing. "_Puck, where are you_?" Lauren screamed. She felt tears beginning to emerge.

"The police!" she exclaimed as she reached into her pocket for her phone. As soon as she grabbed it, it started to buzz. She answered it.

"Puckerman, I don't know what sick joke you are playing, but the kids next to us are dead."

"I know," responded a dark, raspy voice, "I killed them."

"Who is this?" Lauren demanded.

"The captor of your boyfriend, how can I be of service?" The Voice let out a dark chuckle as Lauren felt her face begin to flush.

"You'd better let him go, you bastard, or I'll call the police on your sorry ass and when they arrive I'll ask them as I personal favor that they let me rip you a new one. I am a region-championship wrestler!"

"Is that so? I hear lately that you've been doing glee club."

"That's not the point," Lauren was growing more fearful by the second, "The point is, the police will be here and I'll have the satisfaction of assisting putting a psychopath behind bars."

The Voice just chuckled some more, "Do you really think I'm a psycho?" The Voice sounded pleased, "Go into the glove compartment of the kids you just found dead. They have a flashlight in there that might be helpful."

"Helpful with what?" asked Lauren.

"Our little game," The Voice was clearly enjoying this.

"What happens if I don't want to play your stupid game and I hang up and call the police, did you think about that, _jackass_?"

"You hang up and your boyfriend's insides will become your newest lawn ornaments."

A chill crawled up Lauren's back, "What do you want from me?"

"I just need you to answer a few questions for me," Lauren could feel that The Voice was definitely smiling, "First question—what's your favorite scary movie?"

"What kind of question is that?" Lauren said as she dug through the dead kids' glove compartment searching for the flashlight, finally grasping it.

"Just answer the question!" The Voice snapped back.

"I don't know," Lauren rolled her eyes, "_The Shining_. It's long enough to have a decent make out session and it's so cheesy that I can get a good kick out of it too, is that good enough for you?"

"I see you've found the flashlight," Lauren looked around, obviously he could see her, "Start walking towards the trees."

Lauren hesitated, the sweat began to resurface and she feared her dinner would too. Lauren took a few deep breaths, through which she uttered a silent prayer and began to walk towards the forest.

"Now," The Voice hissed as she entered the forest, "I'm going to ask you a few questions, you get them right and I might let you live. However, if you answer incorrectly—well let's just say, answer the first one wrong, your boyfriend gets his eyes gouged out, the second, your boyfriend dies, the third you _both _die."

"What kind of questions?" Lauren tried to sound strong through her lump in her throat.

"What is Michael Meyers', from the movie _Halloween_, middle name?" The Voice asked, disregarding Lauren's question.

Lauren began to really sweat. _Halloween?_ She hadn't seen that movie in years. She racked her brain. Michael Meyers' middle name? Did serial killers have middle names? What was it? Puck's eyes where at stake.

"Audrey," she finally answered, stomach churning with the fear that she could be wrong.

"Correct. I guess your boyfriend can keep his eyes. But can he keep his life?"

"Stop screwing around and give me the next question," Lauren wanted this over with.

"Getting snappy are we? Alright, question number two: what crimes did Charles Lee Ray commit before transferring his soul into the doll known as Chucky in the original _Child's Play_?"

This one was easier, "He was a serial killer, the police called him 'The Lake Shore Strangler'."

"Very good—now the stakes are higher than they have ever been, answer this next one wrong, and you and your boyfriend become my little playthings," Lauren's stomach threatened to burst, but she held strong.

"Bring it," she stated, as strong as she could possibly muster.

"Which actor has portrayed Dracula on screen more than any other?"

Lauren began to panic. _Dracula?_ She never cared about Dracula. Dracula, she had cheated off some kid in her English class when it came to Dracula. He had said something about Gary Coleman—no, it was Gary _Oldman_. Gary Oldman played Dracula. Did Gary Oldman play Dracula more than any other actor? How many Dracula movies where there, anyway? Who else played Dracula? Bela something. Bela _Lugosi! _Bela Lugosi was the guy in the old black and white Dracula, right? He's got to have played Dracula more than Gary Oldman!

"Bela Lugosi!" Lauren shouted into the phone with confidence.

"Ooh, sorry, wrong answer! Christopher Lee played Dracula eight times. Your chances are up!"

Puck's cries of anguish pealed through the phone, Lauren instantly dropped it and ran in the direction of the sound, crying his name.

"_Puck, where are you?" _She screamed, praying it was all some sick joke.

She ran as quickly as she could towards Puck's cries, the branches of the trees scratching her as she went. Lauren finally found Puck, bound and gagged to a tree. His shirt was stained red and his body was limp.

"Puck, oh my god, Puck," Lauren put her ear to his chest. Nothing. He wasn't breathing.

"Where are you?" Lauren screamed, "Show yourself you sick fuck!"

Lauren turned to the sound of a footstep. Nothing seemed to be moving. She took a step forward to peek behind some trees. Nothing to her left, she turned to her right to see a figure dressed as Ghostface, she instantly recognized from the _Stab_ movies. She screamed as Ghostface lunged towards her pulling out his long, blood-stained knife. She ran frantically towards the entrance to the forest when she past a blinking light and a ringing noise on the forest floor. Her phone! Maybe she could grab her phone and call the police as she ran. She turned around to see Ghostface pick up her ringing phone. He answered it silently and lunged towards Lauren. Lauren tried to dodge him, but her foot was caught in a tree-root and the blade slid into her stomach as she fell to the ground.

"Lauren, Lauren, are you there?" She recognized the voice as her father's, "Lauren, if you can hear this it's time for you to come home."

Lauren reached for the phone in Ghostface's hand, "Dad," was all she could muster as Ghostface tossed the phone deeper into the woods.

"Why are you doing this?" Lauren pleaded.

Ghostface just hunched down to Lauren's side, pulled the knife out of her stomach, causing blood to gush from the wound, and then he slit her throat.

She let out a final wheeze as she bled from the fatal wounds. Ghostface wiped the blood of the knife, walked over to the phone with Lauren's father on it and stomped on it, crushing it into pieces. His job here was finished.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Kurt walked through the halls of McKinley. It was great to be back. Last year he had only spent a quarter here. While he was grateful he went to Dalton—he met Blaine there, after all—I was always nice to be able to choose what you were going to wear at school. Today he was sporting a baby blue button up shirt tucked into the finest tan, silk pants, a red vest and a plaid ascot. All of this was topped with a beautiful, long, black peacoat. Perhaps it was too warmly dressed for September, but heat-stroke was a risk worth taking if it meant he looked fabulous.

The bell rang and Kurt headed to the choir room, glee club was just about to begin.

"Welcome, Kurt," Mr. Schue greeted him as he walked in, "Take your seat, there's something we need to talk about."

Kurt could feel that something wasn't right. He took the seat next to Rachel.

"Do you know what this is all about?" Kurt whispered to Rachel. She shook her head.

"Alright, everyone," Mr. Schue took a few deep breaths, "This is gonna be hard to say…"

"Wait a second," Santana blurted, "Puck and Zizes aren't here yet. Did they quit glee club?"

"That means we aren't qualified for competitions anymore, how could they do this?" Rachel shouted.

"Guys! Guys!" Mr. Schuester yelled as the group silenced, "Puck and Lauren didn't quit glee club. They're dead."

A hush fell over the group. A few even started to cry.

"H-how?" Kurt finally asked.

Mr. Schue looked up at Kurt. Kurt could see that what Mr. Schue knew was awful.

"They were," Mr. Schue mustered his strength, "They were murdered."

"How could this happen?" Artie sputtered, clearly feeling awful, "Who would do this?"

"The police don't even know yet," Mr. Schue muttered.

"You mean this guy is still out there?" Quinn's voice quivered as she asked.

"I'm afraid so," came Mr. Schue's reply.

Quinn let out a sob, "I'm sorry, Mr. Schue, I have to go," she whimpered as she walked out of the room.

The class fell silent again. The fear and emotional tension buzzed through the room like a colony of angry wasps. It was unbearable.

Finally, Rachel broke the tension, "I should probably go check on Quinn," she left the room.

"Should we do something," Kurt asked, "for their families?"

"I've already called their families," Mr. Schuester said, "They were all in too much of a mess. I don't think it would be a good idea to do anything right now."

"Well, what abut us? What are we going to do about us?" Santana's voice was straining.

"How can you be thinking about competitions right now?" Tina asked, jumping to conclusions.

"I'm not talking about the competitions!" Santana snapped, "What about _us? _What about me? I know I don't show it very well, but Puck was my friend once," Santana dropped her head, "I haven't even spoken to him since last year."

Brittany put her arm around Santana, who leaned into Brittany's chest, fully crying at this point.

"We should have our own memorial for them," Mr. Schue said, "Santana, you can lead us off."

Santana wiped the tears off her eyes, and walked to the front of the room.

_"Goodnight, my angel time to close your eyes," _Santana started singing acapella, _"And save these questions for another day." _Brad started playing the accompaniment, _"I think I know what you've been asking me/I think you know what I've been trying to say/I promised I would never leave you/and you should always know/where ever you may go/no matter where you are/I never will be far away._

"_Someday we'll all be gone but lullabies go on and on/they never die that's how you and I will be."_

The class sat there in silence.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

"Quinn, are you in here?" Rachel poked her head into the girl's bathroom, "I know I'm probably the last person you want to hear from." Muffled sobs came from the first stall.

"Quinn, would you like to talk?"

"What do you want, Rachel?" Quinn sobbed.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Oh, but you didn't make sure I was okay when you _stole_ my boyfriend?" Quinn slammed open the stall door to look at Rachel, "There is _nothing_ I want to hear from you." Quinn shoved passed Rachel.

"Is this about Beth?" Rachel asked calmly. Quinn stopped in her tracks.

"This conversation is over," Quinn continued walking towards the exit of the bathroom.

"Quinn," Rachel called out, "It isn't healthy to keep all these emotions bottled up."

_"You don't understand!" _Quinn screamed, _"Puck was the father of my daughter!" _Quinn's voice got quieter, "He may have been a prick, but he was still my baby's father."

"I am so sorry, Quinn."

"So am I," Quinn turned and walked away.

* * *

><p>"Blaine did you hear?" Blaine looked up from his homework to see his fellow Warbler, Thad.<p>

"Hear what?" Blaine asked.

"Two kids in New Directions were murdered, I just assumed you heard."

"Oh my god," Blaine's face went pale, "which kids?"

"I don't know, it was all over the news."

"Oh my god, Kurt." Blaine pulled out his cell phone and dialed Kurt's number.

"Hey, Blaine," Kurt answered.

"Kurt, you're alright!" relief washed over Blaine, "I just heard about the murders. Are you okay?"

"I honestly don't know." Kurt's voice quivered.

"I'll be right over," Blaine hung up and started for the door.

"Is everything alright?" Thad asked as Blaine opened the large oak door.

"That's what I hope to find out."

Blaine was greeted with a big hug from Kurt as he entered McKinley, "Kurt, I was so worried," Blaine hugged Kurt back. "Who was it?"

"Puck and Lauren," Kurt answered, "Four other kids were murdered too, but I didn't know them."

"That's terrible," Blaine stated, "Do you know who did it?"

"No. The police don't have any ideas yet either."

"Do you think he's going to strike again?" Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand.

"I don't know. I don't know why he killed anyone in the first place. Sure, Lauren and Puck can be annoying, but this is beyond anything anybody could expect."

"I'm so sorry."

Kurt looked away.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Blaine reached over to Kurt's face and wiped a falling tear away with his thumb.

"It's just, now we are short one member for any competitions. I feel awful thinking about something as silly as a competition right now, but I was really looking forward to this year," tears were flowing continuously down Kurt's cheeks now.

"Well, maybe I could join New Directions," Blaine said.

"No," Kurt dried his eyes with his sleeve, "You can't leave The Warblers."

"Yes I can, for you," Blaine was smiling now.

"But, there are bullies here. This school isn't made up of nice, accepting people like Dalton Academy. I don't want you to have to go through the same thing I did."

"I don't care anymore. I want to be with you. I need to know you are okay at all times. I don't know what I would do if you got hurt," Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand a little tighter. "You mean the world to me, Kurt."

"I'm so glad I have you," Kurt surrendered, bringing Blaine into a full embrace, holding him as tight as he could.

"And I'm glad I have you," Blaine whispered.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Kurt made sure to tell Blaine to meet him in the McKinley atrium. He wanted to make sure Blaine didn't make a fool of himself at his first day of public school in years. Blaine had his parents transfer him almost immediately after their chat the other day. While Kurt was greatly excited to finally have an on-campus boyfriend, he was extremely nervous about Blaine being here. With Azimio still giving Kurt the occasional hard time, Kurt was worried Blaine might get the same treatment. And Blaine wasn't used to being bullied. However, all these minimal fears were nothing compared to the fear that, if the killer were planning another attack, Blaine could very well be putting himself in the middle of it all. The thought of Blaine being murdered sent shivers down Kurt's spine.<p>

"The bell rung three minutes ago," Kurt stated as Blaine finally showed up. "Now we only have two minutes before the late bell."

"Sorry, I'm not used to picking out my own clothes for school, having worn a uniform for so long."

Kurt smiled at this, "Well, that's forgivable, I suppose. And you look dashing."

"Really?" Blaine grinned.

"Yes," Kurt leaned in and kissed Blaine. Why did he ever try to talk Blaine out of coming to McKinley? It was so good just to know Blaine was always going to be just down the hall, so to speak.

"Uh oh—looks like a case of FDA, Faggots Displaying Affection," Azimio walked by, strutting around in his lettermen jacket.

"At least we get affection," came Kurt's comeback, "When was the last time you were kissed?"

"You know what? I'm about three seconds away from forgetting what a nice and generous, _straight_ person I am and punching your face in, Hummel," It was apparent that Azimio was having a bad day.

"Hey," Blaine stepped in, "back off, okay? There's no need for this."

"Just leave them alone," Dave Karofsky came from around the corner, "or I might just convince Principal Figgins to allow The Bully Whips to use actual whips."

"Damn, ever since you joined that dumb Bully Whip Club, you've become a real faggot-lover. It's just plain sad," Azimio retreated to his first period.

"Thanks, Dave," Kurt said earnestly.

"No problem."

"Come on, Blaine, let's get you to your class," Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand and led him to his first period.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Rachel popped her Bernadette Peters' karaoke CD and skipped it over to track four—_Last Midnight—_she didn't know when she would ever use this song, unless she were to play the Witch in _Into the Woods_, but it was good practice anyway.

"Rachel?" One of her dads called up the stairs.

"Yes, Daddy?" Rachel called back, pressing the pause button on her stereo.

"Me and your father are heading to the grocery store to pick up some things for tomorrow night's dinner."

"Okay, I'll just be practicing my songs."

"Love you, honey," her other dad called up, "We'll be right back."

As soon as she heard the front door close she moved the stereo into her bathroom and started it up again as she undressed to get into the shower.

_"It's the last midnight," _she began as the warm water poured over her skin, _"It's the last wish/it's the last midnight/soon it will be boom, squish."_

A huge crash echoed from downstairs. Rachel turned off the shower.

"Dads?" she called out, "Did you forget your keys?" Rachel pulled on her bathrobe and paused the stereo again, "Hello?" nothing. She poked her heard out of her bedroom door. Nothing. She walked down the steps into the entry way of her house. The framed picture of her dads holding her as a baby had fallen and shattered.

"How did this happen?" Rachel thought as she carefully swept up the glass. She was emptying the dustpan when she heard loud, heavy metal music playing. It was probably her annoying neighbor having some sort of wild party next door, but that's okay, because she could always turn her stereo up louder. She walked up the stairs and opened her bedroom door to find that it wasn't her neighbor's stereo. It was hers. She was suddenly very frightened. Her Bernadette CD was placed on top of the stereo, and some other awful CD was playing inside of it. She quickly turned the loud ruckus off.

"Hello?" She called out again, "Is anybody here?" Rachel grabbed her phone, perhaps she could call her dads to tell them to hurry and get home. She dialed the number and held it up to her ear, but there was no sound. She hung up and turned on the phone again, still no sound. There was another phone in the house that was off the hook.

She ran downstairs to grab her cell phone which she had left on the kitchen counter earlier. When she got to the kitchen, it was nowhere to be found.

"Great," she muttered under her breath.

Rachel's heart skipped a beat as she heard creaking coming from her dads' bedroom. Someone was definitely in there. She grabbed one of the kitchen knives for protection and began to walk down the hallway to the master bedroom. She turned on the light in the bedroom and there on the bed was her cell phone.

"What are you doing in here," she thought as she reached out to grab it. _RIIIIIIING! _The sound made her jump, and then laugh at her self for how tense she was.

"Hello," she answered the phone.

"Hello," a raspy voice answered back.

"Finn, is this you?" Rachel asked, "You sound awful."

"What's your favorite scary movie?" The Voice asked. It was definitely Finn, Rachel thought, he kept trying to get her to watch all sorts of scary movies with him. Just last week he tried to get her to go see _Insidious_ with him.

"Finn, you know I don't watch scary movies. They freak me out, and then my dads have to do their Bette Midler impressions to make me feel comfortable again."

"What's your favorite scary movie?" The Voice persisted.

"Okay, then," Rachel thought about it, "_Labyrinth, _the one with David Bowie. That one always gave me nightmares as a kid."

"I see."

"Hey, Finn, would you like to come over right now, my dads are out shopping for groceries and after what happened to Lauren and Puck, I don't really want to be alone right now," Rachel asked.

"I'm already over," The Voice replied.

"That was you messing with my stereo? Finn, you freaked me out," Rachel realized she was still in her bathrobe, "God, Finn, I'm not even dressed."

"Why do you keep calling me Finn?"

Rachel's heart started pounding like a drum line, "Who is this?" Rachel demanded. No response. "I'm hanging up now," Rachel hung up the phone.

"What a creep," she thought, making sure her bathrobe was tied tightly. Her phone rang again.

"I'll just let it ring," she thought as the drum line in her chest started pounding again.

_RIIIIIING! RIIIIIIIING! RIIIIIIING!_

Finally it stopped ringing. Relief washed over Rachel. Maybe whoever it was gave up?

Then her phone started buzzing again, this time with an incoming text message. What did this guy want?

Rachel's heart began pounding harder, like a little explosion each time, as she read the harrowing message on her phone: **YOU WON'T EVEN MAKE IT TO MIDNIGHT.**

Rachel ran up to her bedroom, she was going to get some clothes on and stay at the neighbor's house until her dads came home. She slipped on her clothes and started for the stairs when she heard breathing coming from the darkened hallway. Rachel flicked on the hallway lights to reveal a cloaked figure wearing a stretched-out skull mask. Rachel let out a blood-curdling scream as she rushed down the stairs, two steps at a time, and headed for the front door, Ghostface close behind her. She reached for the door knob and a long knife sliced through the air and into the door only a few inches from her face, jamming the door shut. Rachel frantically pulled at the door, but it wouldn't budge. She turned to face the killer as he threw his fist into her face. Rachel fell to the ground, and blood spurted out of her mouth. Ghostface calmly yanked the knife out of the door and held it above his head, preparing to stab Rachel. Rachel did the only thing she could think of and kicked Ghostface between in the stomach. Ghostface doubled-over in pain and let out a groan as Rachel rolled over to her front and hopped onto her feet, sprinting for the back door as she pulled out her phone and dialed 911.

"Hello?" She heaved into the phone as the emergency operator answered, "Yes, there is a killer chasing me through my house."

Just then she noticed Ghostface following closely behind her brandishing his knife, Rachel threw down her dads gardening kit, hoping to slow him down. Ghostface tripped over the kit and fell, grabbing onto Rachel's leg as he went. Rachel screamed and fell face first into the grass, her phone slipped out of her hand and flew across her yard.

_"Help me, please!" _Rachel was in hysterics at this point. Ghostface gashed Rachel's left calf and then stood up to finish her off.

_"Please, somebody help me!" _She continued to scream. Ghostface turned Rachel onto her back and put his hand around her neck, silencing her screams. He held the knife high, ready to strike when a gunshot sounded and his knife shattered.

"This is the police," shouted the policeman who had just arrived, "put your hands in the air!"

Ghostface, quickly scurried off, barely missing bullets as he hopped the fence and disappeared.

"Set up a perimeter, _now_," the policeman called into his radio, "I'm Officer Walton Green," he said, "Your safe now."

The paramedics showed up and took Rachel to the hospital. Her dads were notified and they came to the hospital as fast as they could. Rachel's leg had thirty-two stitches down it, and thankfully there was no nerve damage, but she was still going to need some intense physical therapy to get it back to how it was. Until then she had crutches and a cast plastered to her leg.

Rachel's dads called Finn who, in turn, called the rest of the glee club and soon enough singing teenagers filled her little hospital room. She knew that most of the club was only there because it was related to Lauren and Puck's death, but it was better than being alone.

Eventually the police came in a shooed everyone out of the room except for her dads and her.

"We need to ask you a few questions," Officer Green stated.

"Okay," Rachel felt a lump growing in her throat.

"Is there anyone you can think of that would want to do this to you?"

"Well, I know a lot of people really don't like me, but I can't imagine why anyone would want to kill me," Rachel's voice was still shaking.

"The killer somehow managed to get away," The policeman stated, "It's important you try to stay with people at all times, he most likely will strike again."

Rachel's heart began pounding again, "My phone," she said, "can't you trace the call or something?"

"We've tried," Green replied, "It would appear that the killer was using a cloned phone. There's no way to trace it. We tried with Lauren's phone, but it was too damaged to be of any use."

"What about the knife? You shot it out of his hand," Rachel's heart continued pounding away.

"There were no finger prints to be found on it."

Rachel's face flushed, she began to feel sick. Her dads noticed this and asked the policemen if they were finished. The policemen left.

"Should we do our Bette Midler impressions?" one of her dads asked.

"Please," came her weary response.

The dads took turns giving their Bette Midler routines as Rachel drifting into sleep.

The next morning, Rachel was allowed to go home. Against her dads' protests, she went to school that day, she didn't want to be in the house. It was so difficult to maneuver through the crowded hallways on crutches. She hated every moment of the day, but it was better than being in the spot where she almost died.

When the time for glee club came around, Rachel finally felt a little more relieved. This was her element. Perhaps Mr. Schue would let her sing a solo, and she could find relaxation through her singing. She had recently finished memorizing _No One is Alone_, which could be comforting to sing, and would definitely be a great number.

"Hello, everyone," Mr. Schue greeted, "I'm afraid we won't be singing anything today."

There went Rachel's hopes, "Why?" she asked.

"The glee club is being targeted by a killer," Mr. Schue explained, "this killer is following a very similar patterns as a series of killers who from Woodsboro, California. Are any of you familiar with the _Stab _franchise?"

Rachel looked around as she noticed almost all her peers were raising their hands except her.

"The first three _Stab _movies and the eighth were all based on true happenings," Mr. Schue continued, "It would appear that someone has taken their passion of horror films too far."

"Mr. Schue, you do know that that's the tagline of the very first movie, right?" Santana stated, "Plus, there are ways to surviving these."

"How?" Rachel asked.

"Easy, you just abide by the rules."

"Rules?" Kurt piped in.

"Yeah, your good, Kurt. Gays don't die in horror movies," Santana stated, "The rules are pretty much as follows: don't have sex, don't do drugs, and don't say you'll be right back. It's as simple as that."

"I'm gay," Brittany shouted out, the whole class turned to look at her, "Yes, I'm gay now. This means I won't die, right?" She turned to Santana, who nodded, "Awesome, because dying would really be a damper right now."

"But those are just rules of the first _Stab_," Sam piped in, "There are also rules for sequels, trilogies, reboots. What would our situation be considered?"

"I don't know," Santana stated, "We definitely aren't a sequel."

"If we aren't a sequel or a reboot or anything, are there even any rules that apply to us?" Mercedes asked.

"Maybe the killer is trying to find that out," Mr. Schue said as the class fell silent.

It might have been Rachel's imagination, but everything felt colder. If there were no rules to their situation, everyone was a potential victim. No one was safe, except the killer.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

Will Schuester poked his head into Sue Sylvester's office. The office was vacant. Where is she? Will had been searching for her all day.

"Oh, well," he thought, "I'll just wait for her hear."

Will took a seat in Sue's big chair, making sure to keep his eyes peeled so he could hop out of it as soon as Sue started to approach. He didn't want to anger her. After a few minutes, Will noticed black cloth hanging out of a drawer on her desk.

"I wonder what Sue's up to now," he thought as he reached for the cloth.

"Will, what are you doing in my chair?" Sue entered the room and Will snapped his hand back to his side and promptly stood up.

"I'm just kidding," Sue smiled. Will and her were supposed to be friends after the glee club planned her sister's funeral just last May, but Will still felt uneasy around her "How are you doing, Sue?" Will put on a fake smile and offered his hand out to her.

"Just dandy," Sue took his hand and gave it a good pump, "Now that I'm through arguing with you, I have time to focus on better, more entertaining cheer-routines for the squad to do," Sue took a seat in her chair, "What can I do for you?" Sue offered Will the student-chair on the opposite side of her desk, which Will took.

"I was just here to ask if you had any idea who might be targeting glee club in this awful killing-spree," Will tried to sound as earnest as possible.

"Why do you ask, buddy?" Sue's smile began to fade.

"Well, the last two years you had this huge vendetta against us, and even tried to send us to Libya," Will began to feel very anxious, "I'm just wondering if maybe you might have a better clue as to who might be doing this because of your history in trying to destroy glee club?" Will held his breath.

"Will, we're done here," Sue's smile had completely vanished at this point, "please leave."

"Sue," Will started.

"Leave this office before I start breaking promises I made to you!" Sue stood up and pounded her fists on the desk. Will had seriously offended her this time.

"Sorry," was all Will said as he walked out of her room.

Will walked out to the parking lot before he allowed the inevitable smile creep on to his face, "I think I've gathered enough information," he thought as he hopped into his car and drove off.

* * *

><p>"I'm so glad you decided not to go on Broadway," Emma said as Will took the take-and-bake pizza out of his oven.<p>

"I am too," Will smiled at her, "otherwise we wouldn't have gotten back together this summer." Will set the pizza down on the coffee table between them and started to cut it into eighths.

"This is really nice Will," Emma said, "after what has been happening to the glee kids, I'm just too afraid to be by myself much anymore," Emma let out a nervous chuckle.

"You'll always be safe with me," Will handed her a slice of pizza, "have you heard about the Woodsboro murders?"

"I can't say that I have."

Will held up a copy of _The Woodsboro Murders _by Gale Weathers, "This book is a true account of some murders that went down in California some fifteen years ago. The _Stab _movie series is based off of them."

"Oh, those awful movies," Emma stated, "I swear a new one comes out every year. Whenever a new one comes out I have to stay away from the theaters for a few months because there's always a bunch of people dressed up like the killer. It's just so demented."

"Have you ever seen a scary movie?" Will asked in all seriousness.

"Once, when I was eleven. My brother forced me to watch _Gremlins _with him. I've never been the same around Furbies since."

"Well, if the killer is recreating a _Stab_ scenario, you should be fine. Innocent virgins almost never die in scary movies," Will reached across the coffee table to hold Emma's hand.

"That's definitely comforting. I would hate to have my guts ripped out. Guts are just so gross," she shivered, "they're so slimy and messy. It's just disgusting to think about," she tapered off.

"You are priceless," Will looked into her eyes, and she looked back into his. They shared a smile for a few moments, and returned to their pizza.

* * *

><p>"So, explain to me again how I am supposed to survive?" Rachel asked Kurt.<p>

"Well, like I said, I'm not one to watch horror movies, but Blaine does on occasion so he might be better at telling you."

"And when did he say he'll be here," Rachel was writhe with impatience.

Kurt looked at his watch "He should be here in ten minutes, along with Mercedes and Sam."

Rachel, Blaine, Kurt, Mercedes, Sam, and Finn were all gathering at Finn and Kurt's house to have a slumber party. The spoken reason for the gathering was to make a safety plan for glee club, but in all honesty, none of them really wanted to be alone.

"Does it seem to you that Sam and Mercedes are going out?" Rachel asked.

"Now that you mention it, it does," Kurt replied, "I wonder why they would be trying to keep that secret."

"Maybe they're embarrassed."

"No one should ever be carrying on in a relationship they're too embarrassed to be open about," Kurt looked at Rachel plaster-white cast wrapped around her leg, "would you like me to make it pretty?"

"If that's possible," Rachel smiled. Kurt grabbed some markers and started away creating a beautiful, colorful pattern on Rachel's cast.

"I'm glad we're friends," Rachel said after a few minutes.

"Uh-huh," Kurt replied distantly, too engrossed in coloring Rachel's cast to be paying attention. The doorbell rang, "I got it," Kurt hopped up and opened the front door to let Sam and Mercedes in.

"Sorry we're late," Sam said holding up a bag of movies, "We dropped by the movie to rent the _Stab _series."

"All eight movies?" Kurt asked, bewildered.

"Yup, if we are going to create a good safety plan, we'll need to know what we're up against."

"Well, then," Kurt shrugged, "Let me go get Finn, he's just up in his bedroom." Kurt scurried up the stairs as Sam and Mercedes greeted Rachel.

"We aren't really going to watch those, are we?" Rachel pointed to the bag in Sam's hands.

"It'll help us discover the killer's patterns," Mercedes piped in, "And plus, after all the stress we've been put through, it'll be nice to just chill and watch some scary movies."

Kurt came back down the stairs followed by Finn, "Has Blaine showed up yet?" he asked.

"No," Rachel replied.

"Where is he?" Kurt thought aloud as he pulled out his cell phone. **WHERE ARE YOU? **He punched into a text and sent it off. "Well," Kurt looked up at the group, "We should probably get started."

Sam popped the first _Stab _into the DVD player as everyone found a spot they where comfortable with on the couch. Rachel snuggled up next to Finn. She was going to need serious help to remain calm during these movies. She doesn't do horror very well.

About twenty minutes into the movie, Finn stood up, Rachel grabbed onto his arm, "I'm just going to the bathroom, I'll be right back," Finn whispered into her ear. She released her grasp and Finn continued down the hallway into the bathroom.

Rachel looked around and noticed Kurt wasn't watching with them anymore. Where'd he go? She grabbed her crutches off the floor and made her way to his bedroom, "Kurt, are you in there?" She knocked on the door but there was no answer. She made her way back to the theater room but stopped when she noticed that Mercedes and Sam had definitely taken advantage of being the only two left watching the movie. They were making out passionately on the couch. Rachel, not wanting to disturb them, quietly continued onward toward the entrance of the house. She needed some fresh air anyway.

As Finn finished using the toilet, he noticed that the shower curtains were drawn shut. A shiver went down his spine as he remembered that old movie _Psycho_ when the girl gets stabbed to death while taking a shower. Then he thought he heard something moving behind the curtains. He began to hold his breath. There it was again—it sounded like the ruffling peoples clothes made. Finn reached towards the curtain, hesitant, he grasped onto the curtain and threw it open. The shower was vacant. Finn sighed with relief when the linen closet burst open revealing Ghostface—knife at the ready. Finn didn't even have time to scream when Ghostface jammed the knife through his lung. Ghostface pulled the knife back out and stabbed his gut. Finn began to shake, grasping for air. Everything turned black. Finn fell over and died. Ghostface wiped the blade off and went out of the bathroom.

Rachel sat on the front porch thinking about what might become of her Broadway career if her leg never healed and she could never dance again. The thought worried her. What else could she do in life?

Kurt came from around the corner of the house, looking flustered.

"Hey, Kurt," Rachel said, "What are you doing out hear?"

Kurt caught his breath and replied, "I'm waiting for Blaine. I hope he shows up soon. I'm so worried."

"Has he replied to any of your texts?"

"No."

"Well, I just came out to get some fresh air. Do you want to come back inside with me?" Rachel asked.

"Fine."

They both headed inside and Rachel instantly noticed that Finn had been in the bathroom for a while.

"That's odd," she thought, "I'll go check on him."

Rachel made her way to the bathroom as Kurt sat down to Sam and Mercedes who embarrassingly pulled out of there make-out session.

"So you guys _are_ together?" Rachel heard Kurt say as she went down the hall.

"Finn?" Rachel knocked on the bathroom door, the lights were still on in there, "Are you feeling alright? You've been in there a while." No response. "Finn?" Rachel opened the door. Blood had pooled around the body and Finn laid there—a lifeless heap staring back up at her. Rachel let out a piercing scream.

"What is it?" Kurt jumped up and ran to her, noticing the body, "Oh my god."

Mercedes and Sam too walked over and reacted in horror.

Rachel fell to the ground and started to weep. Kurt called the police. It would seem that the safety-plan making party had failed.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

Santana was _not_ excited for glee club today. Ever since Finn died, no one has really been enthusiastic about anything. Glee club just got more difficult to come to everyday—and the fact that a crazy killer was after them didn't help at all. Rachel didn't even ask for solos anymore. She barely even talked. Under normal circumstances, a silent Rachel would be a welcome change to Santana, but this was sad and scary. To top it all off: the group was no longer eligible to compete and there was no way anyone was going to join a club where the members dropped like flies. Kurt and Blaine where completely distraught as well, after all, Finn was Kurt's stepbrother. Santana kept wondering who the killer could be.

Quinn walked into the room—still crying like a baby over Finn's death. Santana would swear that Quinn was crying even more than Rachel over all of this—that's it! Quinn must be the killer! Santana's head was racing—maybe she was offered up as a virgin to Satan by some indie band. But since she's not a virgin, a demon possessed her! It's just like _Jennifer's Body. _Santana felt so proud that she figured all this out.

"Welcome, everybody," Mr. Schue's typical over-enthusiasm was severely lacking these days. "Today I have made a very important decision," Mr. Schue looked at the ground, "as of today there is no more glee club. With the recent deaths I just couldn't in good conscience keep the club active. It's too dangerous," Mr. Schue finished without raising his gaze.

The group remained silent. Not a sound was to be heard other than the scrambled sniffles. Santana felt like a soccer ball had been jammed in her throat. Without cheerleading or glee, she had nothing. She didn't even have a girlfriend to keep her company, except that Brittany did finally announce that she was gay.

Finally the silence became too much for Santana, "What if the killer is found?" she asked, giving a sideways glance towards Quinn.

"Then I sure hope we can all join back together and make this glee club what it used to be," Mr. Schue made an attempt at a smile, but it was lost in his trembling lips.

Now that Santana knew it was Quinn she had devised a plan to capture and expose her. Then glee club would continue and people would stop dying. The plan was this—invite Brittany over for crazy, wild sex (breaking rule number one of surviving a horror movie), drink lots of beer (breaking rule number two), and every time she got up to go anywhere she would say "I'll be right back" (breaking rule number three). Even though Santana was a lesbian, she figured breaking three rules at a time had to warrant her death at least a little bit. And the sex and beer would be super fun. Santana had already called Brittany over and she flashed her boobs at Gregory at the liquor store to let her get away with buying alcohol—she had lost her fake ID. Everything was set. She had a baseball bat hidden under the bed for when the killer showed up. When she exposed Quinn as the killer everyone would think she was a hero. Maybe the local newspaper would interview her and she'd get the key to the city or whatever. She might even come out of the closet and everyone would still love her because she caught the killer. She wondered if colleges gave scholarships to people who thwarted serial killers.

* * *

><p>Brittany showed up and Santana lead her into her bedroom. Santana opened a beer can and took a sip, passing a can to Brittany.<p>

"If I drink this, won't I be killed?" Brittany asked, looking cautiously down at the can in her hands.

"Only if you're straight," Santana replied, scooting closer to Brittany, "Lay back honey, you look stressed." Santana leaned into Brittany and gave her neck a kiss.

"Wait, sex is against the rules too, isn't it?"

"Only for straight people," Santana gently pushed Brittany into a laying position and then laid next to her, continuing to kiss her neck. Santana then positioned herself on top of Brittany and began to kiss her on the lips, adding a little tongue in the mix to really piss the killer off—and because it felt nice.

After the fun was over—with no killer in sight—Santana could not understand why they hadn't been attacked. She left the room 26 times, making sure to say "I'll be right back" each time—she had counted. She had plenty of beer, and had the hottest sex of her life with the girl of her dreams and no killer had even called to torment them. Were gays really that invincible? Santana was sorely disappointed.

"I'm sorry if I wasn't good enough," Brittany rubbed Santana's back.

"No, Britt, you were perfect," Santana hoped that maybe Brittany would want to be her girlfriend now. However, she still couldn't believe that the killer didn't show. On the bright side, at least she knew she wasn't a target.

* * *

><p>Karofsky escorted Jacob Ben Israel to class. Since Jacob had become the new enemy of the male swimming team—after Jacob had rummaged through the female swimming team's lockers for soiled panties—The Bully Whips had been called into action.<p>

"What a douche-bag thing to do," Karofsky said to Jacob, truly annoyed.

"Look at me," Jacob sneered, "how else do you think I'll be able to get that close to girl's underwear?"

He did have a point, Karofsky thought, with his out of control Jew-fro and geeky classes, there was no way Jacob was going to score it with anyone.

"It's still really douche-y."

"Since when did you become such a goody-two-shoes?" Jacob asked.

"Since I joined The Bully Whips. Do you want me to keep the swim team from kicking your ass, or not?" This shut Jacob up.

Karofsky noticed Kurt walking down the hallway, hand-in-hand with Blaine, "Hey guys," Karofksy smiled at them. They waved back and continued on their way.

"Since when do you and Kurt become friends?" Jacob asked. Karofsky could tell that not being in-the-loop was killing Jacob.

"Like I said," Karofsky responded, "since I joined The Bully Whips. It's showed me a new side to living, a more tolerant one—which is the only reason why your annoying questions haven't pissed me off yet."

"What does Azimio think of your new gay-friendly attitude?" Jacob started fiddling through is backpack for his recorder, hoping to get some story for his ill-conceived blog, no doubt.

"Me and Azimio don't really talk anymore," Karofsky stated, "I'm not going to be answering any stupid questions for your dumb gossip-blog."

Jacob pulled out his recorder anyway, "Just answer me this: why don't you and Azimio talk anymore?"

"Because he's a bully, and I'm a Bully Whip, it's that simple."

"I don't think it is," Jacob smirked, why were such good people-reading skills gifting to this prick?

"Well, it is," Karofsky grew nervous.

"Are you sure there isn't anything else?" Jacob pressured Karofsky.

"When it really comes down to it, Azimio was never really my friend. He's just an intolerant asshole."

"You were never friends?" Jacob continued, holding the tape recorder up to Karofsky's face.

"No," Karofsky stated flatly, "I never really felt comfortable around the guy." Karofsky hoped that would be all.

"Why is that?" Jacob continued.

"None of your business," Karofsky was really annoyed at this point.

"Is it because you are gay?"

Karofsky began to break into a cold sweat. He felt like everyone in that hallway was staring at him.

"You shut up, right now," Karofsky pulled the tape recorder out of Jacob's hands, popped the tape out and crushed it under his foot. "I am not gay," Karofsky lied.

Jacob just smiled—he had finally put the pieces together.

* * *

><p>Kurt enjoyed walking hand-in-hand with Blaine down the halls. He felt like he was finally allowed to be himself with the one he loved and nobody cared—except Azimio, of course, but he was just a jerk.<p>

"I can't believe glee club is over," Blaine said.

"Me neither," Kurt replied, "But we still have each other, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I feel like I have so much I wanted to express, and now that glee club is gone, I don't have the means to do so," Blaine's voice grew quite.

"I have an idea," Kurt lead Blaine to the choir room. He had seen people unlock doors with credit cards before and tried it out on the choir room door. After a few moments he had the door open and Kurt and Blaine went inside.

It was so strange to see it so vacant and lifeless. Blaine sat down at the piano and started playing the intro to _Mad World. _

_"All around me are familiar faces," _Kurt began singing, Blaine taking the harmony, _"Worn out places, worn out faces/Bright and early for their daily races/going nowhere, going nowhere/and their tears are filling up their glasses/no expression/no expression/hide my head I want to drown my sorrow/no tomorrow, no tomorrow._

_ "And I find it kind of funny/I find it kind of sad/the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I ever had/I find it hard to tell you/I find it hard to take/when people run in circles, it's a very, very mad world/mad world."_

As Blaine finished playing the piano, Kurt looked over to him. They both had tears in their eyes. Kurt walked over to Blaine and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, leaning his head into Blaine's shoulders, Kurt began to sob, and felt Blaine begin to sob also.

The rest of the year without glee club was going to be unbearable.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

"Hey, Blaine," Kurt looked across to the driver side where Blaine was driving them to Blaine's house to eat dinner. Kurt was finally meeting Blaine's parents.

"Yes?" Blaine responded, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Where were you that night—the night that Finn died?" Kurt felt sick even asking the question. He knew Blaine wasn't involved, but he just wanted to know what Blaine was up to that night.

"My dad sliced his hand open working on his car. I was the only one home and had to take him to the hospital."

Kurt still felt it a little odd that Blaine never mentioned any of this until now, but he didn't feel like asking anymore questions.

As they pulled into the driveway, Kurt felt a nervous knot pull tighter in his stomach. They had always hung out at Kurt's house. What if Blaine's parents didn't like him?

Blaine walked around the front of the car and opened the door for Kurt. As the walked to the door, Kurt noticed the beautiful, lush lawn and flower garden. Everything seemed so tidy. Perhaps Kurt's nervousness was unwarranted. After all, keeping things in great condition was an appreciation of Kurt's. His hair was a fine example of that.

Kurt and Blaine walked into the little house. The smell of gravy and chicken filled the air. Kurt smiled—he wasn't expecting a big deal.

"Oh hello," an elderly voice came from the kitchen. And little old lady walked out from behind the corner, "You must be Kurt," she extended her hand to Kurt, who shook it smiling. He didn't know Blaine's grandparents lived with him.

"Kurt, this is my mother, Elise," Blaine indicated to the little old lady. Kurt was a little surprised, and very glad he didn't say anything to embarrass himself. He had to admit though, he was a little taken aback by the fact that Blaine' parents were so old.

"It's very nice to meet you," Kurt finally replied with a smile.

"I'll go get dad," Blaine kissed his mother on the cheek and ran up the stairs.

"Why don't you take a seat," Elise motioned to the couch and Kurt sat down as Elise sat on the chair opposite of him.

"You have a very lovely home," Kurt said, breaking an awkward silence.

"Thank you, that's very kind," Elise's wrinkled face curled into a smile.

Kurt just sat there. He really wanted to get acquainted with her, but it was awkward talking to Blaine's mom without Blaine present. Kurt's eyes began to wander across the room.

"I'm going to go check on the chicken," Elise stated as she walked back into the kitchen. Kurt continued to look across the room. His eyes spotted some baby pictures of Blaine. Kurt walked over to them and an undeniable smile spread across his face. Baby Blaine was just so adorable. Kurt noticed wedding pictures of Blaine's parents. They got married young, why did they wait so long to have children? In the pictures of Elise holding a newborn Blaine, she looked like she could be fifty. It's incredibly risky to have children that late in life. That would make her sixty-eight now. Kurt's dad was only forty-two and Carol was thirty-nine.

"He was a cute baby, wasn't he?" Elise entered into the room again.

"Very," Kurt turned to her and smiled, "He's a pretty cute teenager too." Kurt let out a nervous chuckle.

"Yes, that's my little angel," Elise reached out her slender arm to pick up the picture of Blaine as a toddler. She smiled as she looked down at the picture.

Kurt felt his curiosity building up in him. He knew he was going to feel embarrassed asking, but he was just so curious.

"Why did you wait so long to have children?" Kurt finally asked, wishing instantly that he hadn't.

"We didn't," Elise looked up from the picture—Kurt felt his usually rosy cheeks growing even rosier. "We wanted a baby so bad, we did all we could to have a child. But every time we tried, we miscarried."

"I'm so sorry," Kurt said. He truly was, why did he have to let his curiosity control him?

"But when we finally had Blaine, he meant so much to us."

"How did you handle it when he told you?" Kurt's curiosity once again burst through.

"When he told us he was gay?" Elise asked. Kurt nodded. "Well, I was a little shocked at first, but Blaine was the only baby I was ever going to have, and I wasn't about to judge the most important thing in my life over something that can't be controlled." Elise grabbed Kurt's hand in hers, "Don't you ever let anyone tell you that who you are is wrong."

Kurt looked up at Elise, glad—for once—that he did ask the question.

"Thank you," he said.

"Glad to see you are getting to know each other," Blaine entered the room with his equally elder father. "Dad, this is Kurt. Kurt, this is my father, Dean."

"It's great to meet you," Dean said as they shook hands. Kurt noticed Dean's other hand was indeed bandaged.

"Well, the food is all ready," Elise piped in, "Shall we?"

They all walked over into the kitchen and sat down to a lovely dinner of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and an assortment of boiled vegetables. Kurt could tell instantly that he going to be hanging over at Blaine's house a lot more now.

* * *

><p>Santana applied her mascara on thick. Tonight she was getting on her favorite lesbian video chat site. Usually the girls on the site were ugly and too boney, but if Santana said something in Spanish, the girls would flash their boobs and that always satisfied. Santana finished tightening the laces on the <em>Rocky Horror Show <em>costume she kept after she was almost in it last fall. It really looked sexy on her. She sat down at her computer, checked to see if there was any lipstick on her teeth and typed the web address into the browser. The browser didn't load and a box popped up saying that there was no Internet connection.

"How annoying," Santana thought. This meant she was going to have to walk down to her basement and reset the router. She walked out of her bedroom and headed down the basement. After resetting the router she began to walk back up to her room when the power went out.

"Hello?" she called out—her parents were at some cheap hotel having rambunctious sex all weekend. She continued up the stairs and opened the hall closet to find a flashlight. When she grasped it she turned it on and turned around to see a white mask. Santana dropped the flashlight in shock. The flashlight died upon impact with the tiled floor of her hallway. She could barely make out Ghostface's knife shimmering in the dark, she only had one hope and she thrust her leg up in to the air and hit Ghostface square in the stomach. Ghostface fell over and Santana hopped up and ran for the front door. Then she remembered—if she could reveal who the killer is, glee club could start up again! Santana turned and made her way through the dark towards the hall closet where she had knocked Ghostface over.

She crept down the hallway and saw the slight glow of the white mask on the floor, had she kicked him that hard? She bent over and lifted the mask, realizing it wasn't attached to a face. Suddenly a searing pain entered her back and she felt her hot blood begin to drip down her side. She fell to the ground and rolled herself over to look the killer in the eyes. Santana locked onto those cold eyes as the blade came slicing through the air, entering into Santana's chest. Santana finally knew who the killer was—and it was too late. She could no longer tell if it was dark or if she just couldn't see anything. Blood started spilling out her mouth and all her senses faded. The last thing she felt was the killer wrenching the mask out of her cold hands.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

Brittany walked through McKinley's crowded hallways. It was nearly third hour and Santana was nowhere to be found. Brittany wanted to tell Santana that—after a long therapy session with Lord Tubbington—she had finally decided she wanted to be with Santana officially. It was so weird not knowing where Santana was. Even when Santana was sick or ditching school to harass the local convenient store for a pack of cigarettes she would always send Brittany a text. The last time Brittany had heard from Santana was last night when she sent a picture message of her in that skanky _Rocky Horror _costume. Was the last time they had sex bad enough for Santana to avoid her?

When it really came down to it, Brittany wouldn't feel so worried if _somebody_ had seen Santana. She had asked everyone—Kurt, Blaine, Mercedes, Coach Slyvester, Sam. What could have happened? Regular Mondays were long, but without Santana it seemed unbearable.

Tina and Mike turned the corner—Brittany made a point not to talk to them because Mike has a habit of saying "Asian" in every sentence—but Santana was worth it.

"Hey, guys," Brittany greeted them.

"Hey, Brittany," Tina responded, clearly shocked that Brittany was talking to them.

"I was just wondering if either of you have seen Santana anywhere?"

"Sorry, Britt," Tina shook her head, "I hope it's nothing serious."

"If it is," Mike interjected, "we could always get Asian investigators on it."

Brittany wished he was just quite all the time—like how he was sophomore year.

"No, thanks," Brittany turned and walked away.

After school ended, Brittany walked over to Santana's house. Maybe Santana got really drunk last night and was sleeping through the hangover. Brittany knocked on the front door. Surely her parents would be back by now—Santana had mentioned her parents would be gone over the weekend. Brittany knocked again—still no answer. If Santana wasn't feeling well and her parents weren't home yet, Brittany wanted to be there to comfort her. Brittany opened the unlocked door and walked in.

"Santana," Brittany called out as she flicked the light switch. Nothing happened, the power was out.

"Hey, Santana, your lights aren't working." Brittany turned down the dim hallway, luckily there was enough light coming from outside to see where she was going. Brittany noticed something lying in the shadows at the end of the hallway. She continued walking towards it when she noticed it was Santana, lying lifeless in a pool of blood as flies crawled over her body. Brittany let out harrowing scream and took out her phone dialing 911 as frantically as possible.

After she hung up the phone she couldn't hold it in anymore and vomit spewed out of her mouth. She couldn't be near the body anymore. She waited outside for the police, sobbing. She couldn't believe her best friend was gone and was never coming back.

"Welcome to the first underground meeting of glee club," Rachel greeted the group. Kurt, Mercedes, and her had been planning to get the group together for a secret meeting since Santana was killed last week. Kurt told everyone about it, and Mercedes convinced the janitor to let them into the choir room.

"How did we get underground?" Brittany mumbled. She hadn't been herself at all since she found Santana.

"The reason why we wanted to have this secret meeting of glee club," Kurt began, "is to show that we are still here for each other."

"Also," Rachel interjected, "We have all lost someone close to us," Rachel's voice faltered, "Kurt lost a step-brother, I lost a boyfriend, Quinn lost the father of her child, Santana lost her best friend, I lost the ability to dance," Rachel looked down at her cast, "and _we all _lost our chance to compete."

"Today is the sectionals competition," Mercedes stated.

Rachel instantly felt worse, knowing, had things been different, she and Finn would be singing a duet together at sectionals. Now she would never sing with him again.

"I know some of us would like to express some feelings," Rachel said, "Would anyone like to start us off?"

"I would," Brittany raised her hand. Rachel took a seat as Brittany walked to the front of the room.

"I'd like to sing a song," Brittany said as Blaine went to the piano to accompany her, "Can you play _Lost without Your Love_?" Blaine nodded.

As Brittany sang, Kurt turned to Rachel and whispered, "Were Brittany and Santana going out?"

Rachel just shrugged.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

Will walked over to give Emma a visit. After glee club had been disbanded he felt as if a huge, important part of his life had been taken away. He felt void.

"Hey, Emma," he poked his head into her office.

"Hi, Will," Emma smiled.

"I need some counsel," Will sighed.

"Okay," Emma responded, motioning to the chair, "have a seat."

"I just feel incomplete without glee club," Will sputtered, "and these kids aren't any safer without it."

Emma reached over to hold Will's hand. Their eyes met.

"With the police not having many leads, there isn't much you and I can do," Emma admitted, "I wish there was more, but there isn't."

"I just hate that these kids are living in constant fear that they might be next," Will dropped his gaze, "It's not how they should be spending their high school life."

"I just don't know what to say, Will. All we can do is be there for them."

Will nodded, "You always give the best advice, Emma." They leaned in and kissed.

* * *

><p>Karofsky was at home finishing up some geography homework when a text from Azimio buzzed in on his phone: <strong>WHATTUP, FAGGOT. <strong>Karofsky was taken aback by this: **WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME THAT?** Karofsky responded. This was weird, even when Azimio was at his maddest he never called Karofsky a faggot before. His phone buzzed again: **CHECK ISRAEL'S BLOG.**

Karofsky's heart began to pound. Jacob wouldn't have, would he? He opened up his computer and typed in Jacob's blog. When it loaded the first story was titled **McKINLEY'S LINEBACKER DAVE KAROFSKY IS GAY. **Karofsky couldn't believe it. Jacob even managed to get his yearbook photo to show above the article. That _prick! _Karofsky pounded his fists into the table. The whole school knew now. How was he supposed to show his face around school again?

Karofsky's phone buzzed again, this time it was Kurt: **HEY, I SAW THE BLOG, ARE YOU OKAY?** Karofsky didn't bother to respond. This was the end of it. He couldn't play football anymore—people would automatically suspect he was perving on them in the locker room. No more Bully Whips—with the only other member being dead, how useful would a Bully Whip be if he were the subject of the bullying?

Karofsky walked through the halls of McKinley the next day. He couldn't manage to feel comfortable. He felt like everyone was watching him, waiting for him to do something "gay" so they could torment him. He kept his eyes glued to the ground as he made his way to class. He passed by Jacob, who was obviously avoiding him, but he wasn't about to let Jacob go.

"You fucking bastard," Karofsky grabbed Jacob by his shirt collar and slammed him against the lockers.

"What the hell, Karofsky," Jacob exclaimed. A small group of students started to huddle around the two.

"You know what you did," Karofsky said through his teeth, "you are the biggest douche bag I have ever met."

"It's just a blog," Jacob protested, his voice beginning to tremble. Karofsky punched him in the gut and Jacob let out a wheeze as Karofsky dropped him on the ground and pushed his way through the crowd.

"Back off!" Karofsky shouted at the crowd. He was halfway down the next hall when Kurt found him.

"Dave!" Kurt called out, "I saw what happened just now." Karofsky turned to face him.

"What do you want, Kurt?" Karofsky was in tears now.

"I just want to help," Kurt replied, "But beating someone up isn't going to help anything, you'll just get suspended again."

"Jacob's not going to tell, he's too embarrassed."

"That's not the point," Kurt protested, "People know you're gay now, you can't really hide it anymore."

"People are going to hate me, Kurt. Like how they hated you."

"It's not so bad really, you find friends who will support you, and you stick around them. The haters can go screw themselves for all I care." Kurt smiled.

"I don't have any friends who will support me. All my friends are on the football team," Karofsky mumbled.

"Sam is on the football team," Kurt said, "He won't hate you."

"I don't think I can do football anymore."

"Why not?" Kurt asked.

"Because I don't think I could handle everyone thinking that I'm checking them out in the locker room, or that I'm being a perv on the field. I just don't want people to think that about me." Karofsky began to cry again.

"You can't change how other people view you, Dave," Kurt said, "You can only change the way you view yourself."

Karofsky looked up at Kurt, "I don't think I can do it." Karofsky finally said as he took off his letterman jacket. "I just can't do this." Karofsky turned and walked away.

"Dave," Kurt called out to him, "Don't let _them_ control how you live."

Karofsky kept walking, not making so much as a flinch at Kurt's last statement.

* * *

><p>"He hasn't responded to any of my texts," Kurt said to Blaine.<p>

"I think we should give him a little time to figure things out for himself. It's difficult enough to adjust to stepping out of the closet. I can't even imagine what it's like to be pushed out," Blaine responded.

They were walking to Kurt's house after school had ended. Walking home from anywhere was discouraged since the murders, but Kurt figured since they were both walking together, they shouldn't be bothered.

"I feel so bad about this," Kurt stated, "I just can't fathom what he's going through right now. What if his parents aren't supportive? I'm sure with all the talk at school they've heard by now."

"There's really nothing we can do," Blaine said.

"There has to be something. We're the only other openly gay kids at school."

Blaine looked over at Kurt, "Kurt?" he asked.

"Yes, Blaine," Kurt looked at Blaine.

"Do you have feelings for Karofsky?" Blaine said, holding his breath.

"Of course not, why would you ask that?" Kurt hid his shock with a smile.

"Well, you talk about him a lot, and you hang around him. And I think he might have feelings for you," Blaine explained.

"Well, whether or not he does, I only have heart enough for you, Blaine Anderson."

Blaine smiled, "Thanks, Kurt. I love you."

"I love you too," Kurt kissed him on the cheek and they kept walking.


End file.
